Two Tickets (And A Backstage Pass)
by LionessInTheSmoke
Summary: Partial Golden Circle fix-it. In the middle of saving the world, the self-confessed single man Harry Hart asks for two tickets. Why? Sweary and with spoilers if you haven't seen the sequel yet. Also, as this is for once a work in progress, if you review, your comments may be taken on board, but I make no promises.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING** \- Spoilers

 **AN1** \- I enjoyed the film, it had some good stuff in it. It also had too many attempts at symmetry with the first one for my taste, which made it unnecessarily cheesy in parts and it now requires at least one major fix-it. I've only watched it once so I am going to fluff lines here. If your memory is better than mine, you'll just have to forgive me.

I am not going to try to save the whole table in this fic, maybe later, but Goddamnit Merlin is making it out alive, even if there are untold horrors in his future... Here is how... (Yep, it's Malahad, but it is really mild.)

* * *

Harry has always been surprised by Eggsy's almost instinctive trust in him. Deeply flattered by the undisguised hero-worship too. His boy cannot stay angry at him simply because he wants Harry to be right. Even in the face of what he clearly considers to be glaring mistakes of judgement brought on by mental instability, he is as open with his thoughts, feeling and anxieties as he has always been. It is as if they have moved seamlessly from Eggsy's first successful saving of the world straight to this new crisis without the inconvenient loss of time where Harry was believed to be either dead, or more positively, a lepidopterist.

"I had a girlfriend." His boy says as Harry fixes them drinks.

Harry has accepted that he will always consider Eggsy to be his boy. He feels a dreadful guilt about abandoning him to his fate after the death of his father, and then in a rage after the failed dog test. And yet again, albeit involuntarily, in front of that blasted church.

Harry listens carefully, accepting the proof of Eggsy's continued trust.

And he considers.

Merlin will have known about the girlfriend. No matter how careful the boy thinks he has been Merlin will have known because Merlin knows everything. It is his job. No intervention has been made, regardless of how against Kingsman regulations such a relationship is, so it is someone Merlin approves of, and who he is willing to tolerate having an unprecedented level of knowledge about their organization.

Someone judged absolutely suited to, and worthy of, Eggsy by the fussiest judge of character Harry has ever met.

Which is surely all any father figure should demand in relation to their protege's paramour? Harry wishes that had been the case with his own father.

And finally, slowly, with a martini in hand for moral support, Harry unbends himself inside enough to repay some of the openness Eggsy has always unquestioningly shown him, and that the boy is frankly owed as his due for adopting Harry as some kind of catastrophically badly suited, ill-equipped and inexperienced, but very obviously deeply loved, role model.

And since Harry is unbending in the direction of one relationship, and because he has come to realize many things since getting his memory back, when he speaks his words are meant for more than one set of ears.

Merlin knows everything because Merlin is always listening. Harry has stopped consciously thinking about it, but he is still aware of the fact. Merlin listens with an intensity that Harry has often admired when he has joined him in his control room in the past, watching him guiding other agents late at night when Harry has nothing better to do and did not wish to be alone in his empty house full of beautiful dead things.

Merlin listens to everything. Even the things that are said in the gaps between words.

"I was lonely." He admits and it is a relief to get it out there where it can finally be acknowledged. "It is better to have something to live for." He says, talking about a future that suddenly has the potential to be less... Repetitive. "Let's save your girl." He says, because even though he has no memory of the time that has passed as this version of himself, he misses Eggsy, and the closeness that should have developed, in retrospect. He loves Eggsy. He does not want him to live the same life he has lived. He wants him to experience only the good parts of it. He wants Eggsy's happiness.

And he has finally realized he deserves his own too.

His father is dead. The old Arthur is dead. Who the hell is there to stop him now? Merlin is apparently prepared to look the other way for the right partner, so why not test the theory?

When Merlin appears in his suit, it is Eggsy who compliments him. Harry has not unbent enough to manage to get any suitable words past his uncooperative tongue. It has glued itself to the roof of his mouth and refuses to move.

Merlin has not worn a suit in Harry's presence for nearly as long as Eggsy has been alive. He remembers Kingsman's tailor Andrew regularly raising a highly skeptical eyebrow at the sartorial decisions of the then agent Gareth and thinks there is much room for improvement in the choice of cut and cloth even now, but, although Eggsy seems to be sharing a joke with the man, Harry is getting a different message.

Merlin has made an effort with his appearance. And it is not just for the safety provided by the bulletproof fabric because Merlin is also clean shaven and wearing a subtle scent that Harry recognizes as his own favorite cologne. Merlin has understood his message. The only question is whether he understands it was meant specifically for him, or whether he is merely indicating his own interest.

Harry feels his heart-rate increase. He wonders vaguely if Merlin is monitoring it. Wonders if he will interpret it correctly. They are approaching a potentially deadly situation, true. But that has never caused a variation in his heartbeat before and Merlin has years of experience to draw on to know that. He catches his colleague's eye and wets his lips deliberately, communicating he is consciously aware of an attraction and allowing the physical evidence to back him up.

Eggsy is right, Merlin does look good. Harry is however clearly biased because he always thinks Merlin looks good. And Harry knew Merlin the unfortunate, but fortunately brief, comb-over phase, so that is really saying a lot.

Merlin gives him a professional looking nod of acknowledgement, that means something entirely different, and they move on. There are other, more important, matters to deal with first before there is time to seek a "connection".

They have a saving the world situation on their hands.

* * *

Merlin is a sneaky, sodding bastard. Of course Harry knows that. And Merlin knows how much Harry and Eggsy mean to each other. Sneaky, sodding, all-knowing bastard.

The only consolation Harry has is that he is sure Merlin has a plan and does not intend to actually die. He just doesn't want to waste time arguing with Eggsy or have the less experienced agent distracted.

If he though he was going to die, he'd surely have been singing Loch Lomond.

Harry can listen too. Merlin is telling him he may well be injured by whatever he plans to do, but he will be able to make it home. With assistance. Eventually.

So Harry puts on the familiar mental armor of Galahad and allows Merlin to provide a distraction, so that he and Eggsy can take care of the business of saving the world.

Later, as he is catching his breath with Sir Elton John after battling a robo-dog in a bowling alley, he chooses to be optimistic. He asks for two tickets and convinces himself Merlin is still listening.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN2** \- As we still do not know Merlin's 'real' name, I am sticking with Rupert. It is possibly the least Scottish name ever, but I have no regrets (because my name is Loki - and I do what I want).

This is where it starts getting sweary, because Merlin is in it.

* * *

Once again sitting in front of a wall of computer monitors, Merlin feels notably calmer than he has since the attack on Kingsman's UK based assets. He is still volcanic levels of angry and dealing with some fierce self-loathing though. (Kingsman sent its agents out in protective gear when they were working and _expecting to be attacked_ , but as an organization it was clearly negligent about protecting them in their homes where they _expected to be safe_ , which means Merlin himself was negligent because he could have fitted out the houses better. He has already included anti-missile defenses in his new mental plans for when they start rebuilding).

What is making a terrible situation slightly better is that Eggsy, the lovable proverbial cockroach from the gutter, survived and Harry Hart, the Lazarus Agent, is not only back from the dead but has been saved from the clutches of a dull, but probably safe, scientific career with an even larger collection of dead insects than he had previously managed to amass.

Merlin is trying not to think about the return of Galahad Senior too much, and fortunately events are helping him with that, but he is attempting to use it to fan a very small flame of optimism that his other agents are equally hard to kill and have just gone dark until they can figure out what the hell is going on.

Merlin quite enjoys working with an intellectual equal. He had a few minions at Kingsman, and some researchers in Berlin, but no one close by who was actually on his level. Ginger is, and it is refreshing.

He did not tell her that he had already switched roles once, and had no wish to switch back.

He also did not tell her that he thought she was utterly unsuited to being an agent. She was not in his chain of command and he had not assessed her under the pressure necessary to bring out someone's true metal, so it would be unfair to give an opinion and possibly ruin her chances by undermining her confidence before she even had the chance to try. He has a feeling confidence was a real issue with her.

However, he had had the opportunity to observe her as a handler, and she clearly did not have her agents under control. Whiskey was contemptuous of her, and possibly (probably, Merlin knows Harry's instincts) either a double agent or following his own agenda, Champagne was a (not particularly) functional alcoholic, Tequila endangered himself and others with his unprofessional drug use and Merlin had not heard anything helpful from any of the others. Rather damning in a crisis. She was simply too much of a doormat to make a good agent. Even here, on her own turf, she placed Merlin above herself in the hierarchy.

While she clearly sympathized with Tequila's plight, this personal connection to the current megalomaniac's threat to humanity did not seem to create any real fire in her. Agents need the fire of avenging angels in them, otherwise they just could not keep going up against the things that they had to deal with in saving the world situations. They would loose faith and burn out. Or turn destructive in frustration.

In Merlin's experience, good agents require a level of stubbornness rated between 'goat', 'donkey' and 'camel'. Merlin's own rating was somewhere between 'cat' and 'honey badger', varying according to coffee-intake, which was why Kingsman was much more effectively run than Statesman. Ginger's rating was probably frog, might jump either way, or not jump at all. Ginger had given up on Harry, Eggsy, officially rated 'camel', had not. (Neither had Merlin, but he was more subtle and patient about it.) It was simply not something either of them were constitutionally capable of doing.

So Merlin watches his agents and gently reminds Ginger of the importance of her own role. And hopes she stays in it, because whilst Statesman could clearly run a distillery and had enviable resources, Merlin was, with the exception of Ginger, otherwise unimpressed with Kingsman's doomsday solution. And he really would have preferred to wrap her in cotton wool and send her to R&D in Berlin, where she could blow things up in a productive fashion within a safe environment. But that would have resulted in even more of a shambles at Statesman.

* * *

Merlin is less than impressed to find himself once more going into the field with Eggsy. At least he has Harry with him this time though, even if he is hardly at his best. Once this is all over, Merlin is hoping to find Black Angus "alive" and "well" under the rubble of the manor so they can work on a bionic eye, which should sort out Harry's aim and forestall any potential breakdown.

Merlin is giving Harry and Eggsy space to work out their issues. He is still eavesdropping of course, because it is clearly a 'fight or fuck' situation between them. Merlin is fairly sure it won't be 'fuck' and he does not need either agent any more damaged than they already are. Also the airplane is on loan and they should be careful of the furnishings. So Merlin listens in case Harry can't keep Eggsy polite and he needs to intervene.

What he hears causes him to increase the amount of effort he expends on getting ready.

Harry has clearly 'had an epiphany' and feels obliged to share it in case his demise is once again imminent. He has finally decided to admit to himself that he has horribly misspent his youth and would really like a thorough rogering. And he has decided to indicate to Merlin that he would not be opposed to his participation in that plan.

Merlin is neither surprised nor opposed, but Harry's timing is as terrible as ever. He is nearly 30 years too late and an unfinished mission too early. Still, as Harry has finally reached the same page as Merlin, he is not going to miss his chance.

He cannot afford either of them to be distracted now by suddenly ratcheted sexual tension however, so it is a very thin line he has to walk.

He can feel Harry's gaze when he rejoins the other men, but he does nothing that would draw Eggsy's attention to the situation. Merlin is acutely aware that the likelihood of keeping his private life private from Eggsy is vanishingly small if he wants it to involve Harry, but he'd like to at least have something for Eggsy to be a little shite about before Eggsy inevitably starts being a little shite.

Merlin is sure he will get some version of the "break his heart, I'll break your head" speech, especially as Harry has now revealed his lack of romantic experience. No one is even shooting at them yet and Merlin can already feel a headache coming on. The look he gets from Harry makes up for it and Merlin nods his acceptance and moves on.

* * *

The terrible irony of fucking karma.

Eggsy has his foot on a fucking landmine. Bloody brilliant. Why did they bring the damned baseball bat detector? Merlin feels like deja vu has hit him with a mallet and he would be tearing out his hair if he had any.

Which gets him to thinking about what they do have with them.

Fortunately, _it is not that day over 20 years ago_. Things have moved on. He has tech _and he does not have to loose anyone else_. Merlin freezes the mine and gets his own foot on it.

This has only solved half of the problem. Eggsy is not going to get blown up, but Merlin is not keen on dying either. Especially not before he's had his way with Harry.

 _No. Most definitely not the plan_.

Merlin does another mental run through of the inventory and hits the jackpot when he reaches 'watch'. The watch that can hack anything with a microchip. These mines are remote controlled, _they have mother-fucking microchips_.

But...

There are an unknown number of guards and a distraction would be useful...

It would be a shame to waste all the weapons that have been so helpfully left lying around...

So Merlin bullshits Eggsy because they don't have time to argue. And attempts to communicate to Harry that he is not done with him yet.

He chops some greenery, activates the watch, and starts to sing.

Which does get him a lot of attention and gives the agents the best chance of completing the mission. Merlin hopes the goons are not clever enough to just go straight for head-shots. They don't look it.

Harry and Eggsy are on their way, so Merlin waits until the goons are close enough, sends a quick prayer to the God he has never quite managed to exorcise completely, takes his foot off the mine and legs it.

And oh look, the goons are chasing. They really are thick as pig shit. _They have forgotten the area is mined..._


	3. Chapter 3

For reasons that Eggsy does not understand at all, Harry insists they take the robo-dog with them when they leave Poppy's bizarre 50's time-warp. He says he intends to fix it so that Ms Gherkin has a playmate. Eggsy is calling bullshit though because he is sure Harry is about as practical as lace doilies and Eggsy has also already pointed out that he has the perfect playmate for her, that does not come in kit form, in the shape of his own new puglet.

Is robo-dog some kind of replacement for Mr Pickle? Does Harry actually find it hard to take a dump at home if there is not some kind of defunct doggy presence in the room? (Leaving aside for now the question of Harry's currently defunct home.)

Eggsy has no fucking clue why Harry really wants it, except that Eggsy has lived in Harry's house and the man is clearly some kind of classy hoarder, but it is heavier than it looks and takes some effort to get onto the plane. They end up attaching roller-skates to its paws and wheeling it. This is also not as easy as one would assume because they are wheeling it through what is basically a fucking jungle, which wasn't flat to start with, and has now been churned up by multiple landmine explosions.

There are an awful lot of heaps of unidentified red bits, which they try not to step in and don't look at too closely, because the heaps are rank and they don't know which one is Merlin, so have to show respect to all of them.

Eggsy does not want to think about that. It is all over, and he is trying to honor his mentor by not shedding a tear until he is in private, but his eyes keep misting up anyway. Harry is being a fucking trooper about it. His stiff upper lip is so stiff Eggsy almost believes it is cybernetic like Charlie's arm. It is almost as if he doesn't believe Merlin is dead, like he can't face having lost yet another of his colleagues.

Eggsy is already planning to get him absolutely mortal on Kentucky Martinis and ask if he wants to talk. Eggsy wants to talk. He can't believe how utterly bollocks it is that the universe has decided he can have either Harry or Merlin, but not both. And after the eye-fuck he saw going on in the plane earlier, he is not even sure if 'colleagues' was the right word for his mentors either. Harry is just back and Merlin is gone now, and that has to be the definition of star-crossed.

Eggsy wants to get back to Tilde as quickly as humanly possible and get his proposal sorted out, because he came this close to loosing her and that can't ever happen again.

Elton John comes too. He is a consummate professional and, as the autopilot takes them back to Statesman, he keeps them entertained. And distracted, because he is a pro and can read a crowd. He knows they have lost someone, although not who. He has some fantastic stories and Eggsy knows Harry is a fan because he inherited his (now defunct) record collection. He also flirts like a cheap tart at Harry, which is hilarious because, even now, Harry can't help being charming back - and Elton is still wearing feathers and enormous boots. So, they are distracted for the time being.

* * *

No way in hell will Eggsy be staying in America!

It is complicated enough being a super spy in a relationship with the princess of Sweden without volunteering to do it from the other side of the fucking planet. And doesn't Champ realize that Kingsman currently consists of two people? And that that is not a situation which will be improved by one of them remaining at an organization that is at near full capacity?

Fortunately Ginger pipes up, before Harry has to be the one to cut through their humming and haa-ing to politely decline on both their behalves.

They haven't talked about it, but Eggsy knows he and Harry are going to be the ones to build Kingsman back up. He's already imagining it as some kind of father/son business and bonding experience. Harry will be shit hot as Arthur, thus solving the 'two Galahads problem'. Eggsy is determined to keep Galahad for himself.

* * *

They do get completely hammered on the flight back to the UK but Harry doesn't talk. He just gradually moves from proper seated posture to debauched gentile slouch as he listens to Eggsy get steadily less and less coherent.

Neither of them cry. Maybe Harry isn't ready to yet. Or is actually incapable of doing so in public. Eggsy is smashed and definitely could, but he knows it would be ugly, snotty sobbing and he doesn't want to make a bad impression on Harry.

* * *

Back in London, Harry straightens himself up and does a good version of A-Responsible-Adult-Who-Has-Not-Been-Drinking-To-Excess, marshals his 'dogs' into an actual London cab, announces he is going to stay at Merlin's and disappears into the night after wishing Eggsy good luck with Tilde and promising to be in touch very soon.

Eggsy is a bit shocked by his sudden departure, but the fact that Harry knows Merlin lived somewhere (as opposed to recharging a cupboard, which is what Eggsy had previously assumed), presumably knows where that somewhere is if he is planning on crashing there and thinks he can gain entry without being fried to a crispy critter by whatever super paranoid security measures are installed, once again raises the question of exactly how well 'acquainted' his mentors were. Eggsy decides he is not going to interfere if Harry feels the need freak out in his lover's bed surrounded by heaps of unwashed jumpers. Grief is a funny thing. However, he will intervene if Harry starts acting like Queen Victoria. Because he knows Harry is a descendant and it might be hereditary.

So Eggsy shrugs and gets his own cab to Tilde's hotel. Harry has coached him in exactly what he has to say to her dad, although he really hopes that rescuing her twice makes the case for him.

* * *

 **AN3** \- I am thrilled that puglet is a real word.


	4. Chapter 4

Rupert wakes up and his mouth tastes like blood and soil and absolutely bloody _everything_ , but especially his head, hurts. Rupert has woken up with worse tastes in his mouth after a night off-base, and the headache is not exactly unexpected either, however this level of pain everywhere else is not a normal occurrence.

Neither is waking up on the ground outside. And this sure as hell is not Fife, or even Tayside. Or even sodding Kansas. They'd only been out in Dundee for a few.

"Oh fucking fuck." He croaks and pushes himself slowly up to sitting before collapsing against a handy tree.

Being upright improves very little about his situation but is a slightly more sensible position for a self-assessment. He starts at his toes and works his way up.

Everything works, but...

He is wearing someone else's clothes. Rupert does not own anything like this. And whoever they actually belong to, they are not going to want them back because they are shredded and covered with blood. Rupert's legs are also shredded and covered in blood.

So, it appears, is the rest of him. At least the back side of him. The front is just grazed and bruised.

He doesn't recognize his hands. They look old, but that could be the concussion he has almost certainly got from the bang to the head.

The bang to the head that has mysteriously left him bald as a billiard ball. And with seriously crap vision.

The weirdness factor is steadily climbing.

He was out with the lads. That is the last thing he remembers. Being blind drunk and ending up with a shaved head is not in any way unheard of but... No one would dump him, at his best guess, based on the monkeys watching him, in the sodding Tropics. No one hates him _that much_.

He doubts he is here voluntarily. He is Scottish, wet and cold is fine, wet and humid is horrible.

And from a career point of view... He doesn't have one anymore. He is looking at being disciplined for desertion.

Shit. He'll have to pay back all the RAF bursaries for his studies because he'll be in breach of contract if he's in jail.

Rupert leans against the tree and wonders whether he could learn to love the Tropics, given the alternative...

 _No_. And he isn't coward enough to run away from the consequences of whatever this is. He would really like to know what _'this'_ is though.

Rupert pushes himself to his feet and points himself in the direction he thinks is North, on the perfectly logical grounds that anywhere this hot is South of Scotland, which is where he is supposed to be. He puts one foot in front of the other until he finds a road and then he follows the road, because it has to go Somewhere, and Somewhere is closer to Scotland than he will get if he has nothing to help him get there but monkeys.

* * *

Eventually, Rupert reaches a village.

He is enough of a mess that, although the children are curious, he scares them and they keep their distance.

He stops in the middle of the street, attempts to look non-threatening and waits until an adult approaches. It is quicker than knocking randomly on doors and involves less effort on his part. Rupert doesn't really know how he is still standing at this point, he definitely doesn't have the energy left to be expending effort unnecessarily. Any adult that approaches him will be someone who feels they have a duty to do so, and are therefore most likely to be of some help.

This is how he meets the doctor.

Meeting the doctor turns out to be useful in more ways than one. Not only does he let Rupert use his supplies, he treats the bits of Rupert that Rupert can't reach himself and he also speaks French. Sort of.

So Rupert discovers he is in Cambodia and that he was probably running away from an explosion, and lucky to have been outside of the radius for blast wounds.

Once he is cleaned up, he also discovers it is not just his hands that look old. All of him is suddenly approximately 30 years older than he expects.

What has happened to those 30ish years of his life? The options are a) alien abduction b) time travel c) a body swap or most likely d) he really is an old fart now and the knock to the bonce has given him some sort of amnesia.

The only reason option d is positive is that something can likely be done about it, at least to some degree, sooner or later. And he likely doesn't have to worry too much about being late back to base. And for a man over 50, he really doesn't look in bad shape.

Over the 30 years, he has also developed some 'new' tattoos. He is particularly intrigued by the design over his heart that looks like a 'K' on its side in a circle. The letters JT and HRH are written under it.

* * *

 **AN4** \- Short I know, but I know nothing about Cambodia that I haven't read on Wikipedia. Sorry about that.

Why does Kingsman cloth protect you from bullets but not cuts? I have asked myself this question and concluded the answer is 'Magic Merlin SCIENCE!'. Cloth you can't cut would be shite for tailoring, so clearly it protects you from impacts... Which is why Merlin is not suffering blast wounds, just pesky cuts from debris. Yeah for 'Magic Merlin SCIENCE!'.


End file.
